in the vast nowhere
with our voilent instinct, we leave
but every parting has a space in us
we have left is a one thing and ah
other is our mirrored freedom.
but is there any way past memories,
for its completion it creates a world of its own,
full of vivid colors,
as if oil spilled on water.
in the interface, you rythmically occur
as a stroke too bold on canvas.
is there any way past memories, for its completion it creates a world of its own, full of vivid colors, Very poignant write..words are stepping stone for your poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem very insightful and deep!